This is the third part of a four-part story that contains elements of non-consensual sex, rape, unsafe sex, adultery, humiliation, forcible confinement, cuckoldry, exchange of body fluids and violence. Obviously do not try this at home. This is just a story. Read it to masturbate, not imitate. -- Tarek Zia (Author)
The author would like to thank Ms. AT Khan for her help in reviewing the story.
Part Three -- Bheem Takes Over
My wife becomes part of the captain's harem
Two days later, around the evening time, I was scrubbing one of the railings on the second deck, when I heard a commotion coming from the deck below -- the main deck. Altaf was with me and craned his neck to look. It was just about half an hour to sunset and a cool breeze was blowing from the Indian Ocean.
It was my wife Poonam.
She was naked, of course. Poonam was on her knees on the floor of the deck, her hair tied up in the back and held in a firm grip by Bheem. His dhoti was on the ground at his feet, and she had his cock in her mouth. My wife was giving him a blowjob.
And surrounding them were the rest of the crew. All of them were relaxing on deck chairs, watching the show. I saw Lalan, Suraj, Vivek and Sunny. I didn't see Madhavan -- he must have been on the bridge. And Altaf was watching with me from the upper deck.
Bheem held Poonam's hair in his fist, pulling her head up and down on his erection.
"Yeah, that's good,
raandi
. Keep that up, just like that, you hot little slut. I'm loving it, Mrs. Sharma!"
Poonam's head was bobbing as she sucked Bheem in and out of her mouth.
"Oh, you're good! Keep that up, now. Oh, yeah. Now, listen, you little slut, I'm getting ready to cum and I want you to swallow every drop of it. Do you understand, Mrs. Sharma?"
My poor wife looked up at Bheem and quickly nodded. Within seconds, Bheem began to push his meat even deeper into my wife's hungry mouth. He was cumming, and cumming big! I could see Poonam's throat working as she swallowed his ejaculate. A glob escaped her lips and ran down her chin, dropping from there to her swaying breast. When Bheem was done coming in her mouth, Poonam knelt, caught some of the cum on her finger and sucked her finger clean.
"OOOOH, that was good, Mrs. Sharma. The boys have taught you well!"
I had stopped what I was doing to see.
"Keep scrubbing!" Altaf growled at me, even though like me he too was watching the show on the lower deck.
"Yes, of course." I mumbled, wetting the sponge in the bucket and started to wipe the railing on this deck, even my eyes were on what was happening below us.
Bheem stooped to pull up his
dhoti
. He never seemed to wear underwear. Both times I had seen him get my wife Poonam to give him a blowjob, he had simply pulled his
dhoti
down, and his giant cock had sprung out. And both times Poonam had been humiliated in public, forced to give him a blowjob and suck him dry in front of the whole crew.
Poonam remained on the deck, kneeling, naked. The cool sunshine of the setting sun reflected of the sweat on her naked body, and on the drops of white cum still clinging to her cheeks and breast. Despite her effort, she hadn't managed to take in the whole load in her mouth, so there had been some spillage. I could see the tip of my wife's nipples -- they were firm and erect.
"Sunny!" Bheem yelled. "Get me some rope."
"Yes, boss." Immediately Sunny got up from his chair and rushed off somewhere. He returned a couple of minutes later with a rope and a knife.
I continued to scrub the railings, going towards the front of the upper deck. I was now directly above Bheem. I wondered what he wanted with the rope. I soon got my answer.
Once his
dhoti
was up, Bheem fashioned a simple noose in the rope, and without ceremony dropped it over Poonam's head, and drew it tight around her neck.
"You had better come with me, Poonam." He barked at her. "The sun is setting, and I don't want my slut to catch a cold."
"Yes, Bheem
ji
." My wife demurely answered.
Ready to leave now, Bheem gave the rope a sharp tug to bring my wife to heel at his side. With that he led my helpless wife, stripped, humbled and ashamed, from the deck. The rest of his men followed along close behind. I could only watch in shock as my wife was led away naked at the end of a rope around her neck like a female prize captured by ancient slave traders.
"Where is he taking her?" I asked Altaf, as I finished the railings.
"It's his turn with your wife for a week now." Altaf told me. "But I guess he wants to give the boys a show before Poonam will be off limits for a week."
"Are they going to his room now?"
I could see Altaf was torn between his desire to get me to finish the cleaning job, and to see what Bheem wanted to do with my wife. In the end, his voyeurism won out.
"This way." He said. "The lower deck is shielded with a canopy here. I think everyone wants to have some fun. Poor Madhavan, he is stuck in the bridge, steering the ship."
I followed Altaf to the front of the deck and looked down.
As I watched from the upper deck, I saw Bheem lead Poonam into the middle of lower deck. There was a small canopy, and some lounge chairs there. Bheem told my wife to kneel there in the middle of the area. He left the noose of his makeshift leash around her neck. The rest of the gang members relaxed on the chairs. They were not bashful about staring at my naked and humiliated wife.
"I wonder why Bheem is not fucking her." Altaf said out loud. "She's a fine piece of ass, your wife. When she sucks your
lund
, she's like a vaccum, and when she is being fucked, she is so tight! Especially her ass!"
This lowly crook was describing my own wife to me in such crude terms, and all I could do is nod. I knew he and Vikas had shared Poonam last night.
"I think your boss is quite taken by my mother-in-law." I said, as I surveyed the area. "He has left my wife for you guys just for this."
Altaf turned to me.
"It is because your wife has disrespected Bheem on the first day." He said as a matter of fact. "By the time we let you go, your missus will be regretting that little fact forever."
With that ominous threat, he turned back to watch the goings on down below.
After a few minutes, Bheem tossed Poonam a sofa cushion.
"Here, Mrs. Sharma! Sit on this."
Gratefully Poonam sat on the soft pillow, bringing her knees in front of her so she could lock her arms around her shins.
"No, no, slut!" Bheem roared. "Spread your legs. Show us that pussy!"
I could see Poonam blush a vivid red, but she did as she was ordered to. Rocking backward to support herself on her elbows, she parted her feet to widen her knees and expose her sex. Grateful as she was to be off her sore knees and the hard floor, she was humiliated to sit in a room full of men ogling her most private parts as if she was some kind of sex trophy. It must have been unsettling for her to lay on the floor with her legs spread, and a rope around her neck, as if she was captive female flesh offered for sale in some illicit Middle Eastern slave market.
She didn't have to stay this way for long.
Soon Bheem stood up and took off his shirt. And then he dropped his
dhoti
, so that he was now fully naked, in front of all his men.
Again.
